Beauty and the Streetrat
by Rachel Moretti
Summary: A crossover of Aladdin and Beauty and the beast. Belle has always felt her life was missing adventure like the stories inside her books. It's not until her father is sent to Agrabah that her adventure begins to unfold. She meets a charming suitor, one, whose eyes she dreamed about. Will fate let them be together? Or will she return to her monotonous existence back home?
1. She's nothing like the rest of us

**Read before continuing.** **This is a random Idea that I thought of while at work. I have always loved the ideas of Disney Crossovers so I thought Belle and Aladdin would be perfect for each other. I admit, there was a certain photo I found on Pinterest that inspired me. The theory was that Aladdin and Belle were meant for each other because she had been reading about him in her books all along. I kinda ran with that idea. I am going to try and update everyday. I hope that everyone enjoys this little guilty pleasure. Also, excuse my lack of knowledge when it comes to Belle's time period. Also, I made Cinderella and Aurora in the story as well. For fun of course. I also didn't know if either Disney Princess had a last name. If anyone knows their last name please comment and let me know!**

**I hope you all enjoy I love comments. I think I'm kinda nervous about this one, so, I'd love feedback.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter One: She's Nothing Like The Rest Of Us**

It begins with a dream. The sizzling sun planting kisses along the soft ample skin along her forearms. Her hair, free and wild, dances with the wind's harmony. Her back lies against the warm hot sand as she dares to stare into the sun's blazing glory. Oh, this place she's visited so many times in the safety of her dreams. She longs for far off places, magic lamps, and true erotic romance. She used to believe she'd only find these places in the lines of her storybook. How delighted she was when she realized, these beauty unknown places, followed her into her dreams as well.

She arises softly feeling the warm substance under her fingers. It glides through her fingertips recollecting back on the ground below her. She turns her head as she sees a camel roaming in the distance. Her lower lip slowly purses as her vision becomes wider. She had read about this creature in her dad's studies. Yet, as it comes closer her wildest imaginings couldn't have constructed such a beautiful creature. She reaches out to touch it but stops as a man, dressed in midnight, comes from behind the large creature. She screams moving backwards in the sand. Her hair flies across her eyelashes, her pulse rushing like a raging river. The man crouches next to her the only thing shone is his vibrant dark brown eyes. Those eyes are dangers, a lion amongst a lamb, but she's not afraid. She's only intrigued, desperately wanting to know the man behind the mask, the man possessing such mysterious eyes as these.

"Who are you?"

Her voice catches inside her throat. He doesn't respond. He merely places his thumb against her lips as if he wants her silent. Her breath hitches as her vision blurs.

She falls back to reality back to the darkness behind her lids.

She awakes with the roaster's loud croak thumping against her ears. She sighs, placing a soft feathery pillow above her head. Her books, which were littered across her blanket, fall to the ground with a loud thump. She would read countless stories before bed. Only the lovely images inside her mind would soothe her racing mind. She'd fall asleep knowing that places, grand thrilling places, existed and maybe one day she'd see them. Belle had a racing wild heart and only the thrill of travel would soothe her racing madness.

She had always been different than the other girls. While her peers would sip tea and practice their curtsy, Belle, a wild eyed young woman, would challenge the young boys to races, promising she'd 'kick their hinny.'

Her mother didn't seem to understand why she was cursed with such a barbaric daughter. Elizabeth, Belle's mother had always wanted a poised daughter, just like herself. She would flinch and cringe when her daughter would hitch up her skirts, running along with the boys.

Sometimes, she'd stay in the woods secluded by all the trees and wildlife. That's when she'd go to her small hill, overlooking the glistening river and the tips of the trees. She lay there, daisies collecting in her russet hair, and watch the sun slowly fade. Colors, pastels and oranges, dancing along her vision. As the sun would set she'd feel this beautiful realization that maybe, one day, she would find where she belonged.

She lifts the pillow off her head with a sigh. Her duty for the day would be to go with her father to tea with his friends from university. The entire idea makes her skin prickle with displeasure. She would simply sit there while her father and his friends talked about all their different ideas, politics, which of course she wasn't allowed to talk about. The worst part is that she would be placed with other daughters. Buffoons who would snicker at others less holier than them.

She hears a slight tap on her door. She looks towards it,

"Belle, are you ready dearest. Our carriage will arrive shortly." Belle holds in her breathe.

"Yes Papa. Almost ready," she lies.

Belle loved her father because despite all else he understood her. He had been a well-traveled man in his young days. He dared to learn about different cultures and document them in his journals. He was fascinated by the foreign and yearned to learn the truth about why people do what they do. Belle believes this is where her yearning for the unknown came from. All of that stopped when he met his fair lovely wife Elizabeth. He had told Belle that it was like an arrow pierced his heart and only Elizabeth's lips could resuscitate him. That is why he was heart-broken, completely shattered, when Elizabeth contracted consumption and died only months later.

Belle did everything she could to fix her father's broken heart. Yet, she knew that time would be the best medication. That is why she puts on a fake smile, dresses in fabrics way to itchy to scratch, wears hats larger than her head. It's all for him because sometimes true love goes beyond the affection of romance but for the love that a daughter has for her father.

Belle immediately saunters towards her closet rummaging through the small amount of fancy clothes that she possesses. After her mother's death her father lost his job, due to depression, as a professor. He took up creating, making the randomness of nick-nacs. Yet, despite his yearning for creating he couldn't replicate the one thing he wanted most his darling Elizabeth.

"Dearest, the carriage has arrived!"

Belle curses under her breath. She grabs a yellow colored dress believing this will have to do. It was her mother's she knows it will never bring her back and she will never live up to the perfection of her mother. Her skin will never be as glistening, nor will her hair ever be as tame, but she will try. Oh God, will she try.

The summer day is quite lovely. There's a slight breeze that hits up against the seated crowd around her. The young ladies, two petite blonds, sit gracefully as they fan themselves with their elaborate fans. There is fresh iced tea placed in front of them and Belle desperately wants to gulf it down. She must try to be a lady she tells herself. It is only one day of pretending.

Her father and his friends reminisce about their days at university. They chuckle to each other as they show off each of their daughters like prized ponies. The one shorter haired blond places her gloved hands on her lap. She is wearing a silken lovely light blue dress that fits her heavenly. Her pleasant blond hair is pulled up into a tightly wrapped bun. Her name is Cinderella, but, most people know her as Cindy.

"Have you all witnessed the most loviest of gossip?" The blond purrs as she leans in towards Belle and the other blond named Aurora. Belle is bored of the topic and turns her attention towards the small group of young men who are playing a game in the well-trimmed grass. The young men were the sons of her father's friends. They were properly introduced to the females therefore, it would be decidedly improper to speak with them. "The boy, you see him, over there." Cindy murmurs she places her fan over her lips only exposing her crystal blue eyes. Aurora does the same looking in the direction of the tall muscular male with dashing features and collected ebony hair. Belle notices the tall muscular man as well. He towers over the slender men around him. He's wearing a dark red shirt and black pants. "This man was said to wrestle a bear with his meek hands."

"It cannot be," Aurora breathes in rather loudly.

"Ay, it is true."

Belle rolls her eyes.

"Do you deny my pivotal information?" Cindy asks.

She lowers her fan and Aurora does the same. She is challenging Belle like a prancing pony about to gallop in front of a crowd.

"I simply cannot believe that a mere man could challenge such a wild beast."

"Ah, but look at his strength. See how the sun glistens off his muscles."

Belle wants to gag.

"He is quite stalwart." Aurora chuckles.

"What a lovely creature, wouldn't you agree Belle, or do you challenge this declaration as well?"

Aurora raises her fair colored eyebrow. She twirls a ringlet of gold around her finger.

"Yes, he may be easy on the stare, but is he chivalrous, is his mind as lavish as a library—"

"Poppycock." Cindy pouts. "No such man exists only in storybooks."

Belle bites her tongue.

"Ladies," Cindy's father turns to stare at them. He's a rather older gentleman with graying hair. His beard seems to be nicely trimmed for the occasion. "How extremely rude I have been. I have not yet introduced you to the gentleman." He waves them down and the young men begin to walk up to the ladies like strong soldiers. Belle can hear Cindy and Aurora's voice catch as they chuckle towards each other.

Belle, on the other hand, would much rather be reading.

The men come up and stand in a straight line each of them eyeing the woman like wild animals. "These fine young men are my dearest sons friends from university."

"Sister," the red haired boy looks towards Cindy. "Why don't you introduce us to your lady friends." Cindy nods her head standing up. Her posture is perfectly erect and flawless like a ballerina.

"But, of course." She points to Aurora and she stands as well. "This is Aurora Bellatite." Aurora curtsies.

"lovely to meet you all," she coos.

"And this is Belle O'Hara." Belle curtsies as well despite her desperate wishes not too.

"Lovely," the black haired man says eyeing Belle far too long for her comfort.

"And what about your names gentleman?" Aurora bashes her eye lashes.

"I am Adam, Cindy's brother." The red haired male says. He places his hand on the tall dark haired man. The one who supposedly slays bears with his naked hands. "This is Gaston, my friend from university." Gaston smirks eyeing each women hungrily.

"All such beautiful creatures. Adam, if I knew your town had such marvels I would have ventured here sooner."

Aurora and Cindy giggle to themselves. Adam introduces the other two gentlemen as Henry and Phillip. They all hold small conversations about meaningless things. Belle cannot stand it any longer. She meekly excuses herself.

"Such a funny girl that Belle," Cindy snugs.

"A beauty but a funny girl." Aurora chimes in.

Gaston follows her with his eyes as she walks alongside a bond the sun glistening down on her russet hair.

Belle admires the flowers and swaying grass along the pond. This silence is so much more intoxicating than the meaningless babble that she was witnessing. Nature has such purity about it something that she finds people no nothing about. She gets farther away from the crowd noticing a small a small long placed against the collecting of a river. It is shaded underneath a rather large Oak. She finds this as her moment of escape, a treasure among the everyday monotony. She grabs the skirt of her dress and runs towards the log. She runs so quickly that some wisps of hair fall from its prison dancing free in the wind.

She sits atop the log taking out a book that she had brought for her sanity. She slides her fingers across the rough edges of her book. It had been given to her by her favorite book keeper. He had promised her it was filled with dangerous lands, mysterious strangers, and princes in disguise. Her anticipated fingers flip open the book as her eyes dance across the pages. Each sentence a portal transporting her to another world.

"You seem to be in love," a hoarse voice shatters her perfect reality.

Only her eyes peer up from her book. "Your book," Gaston points towards it inside her hands. She doesn't want to comment she wants to be left alone. Yet, she knows her father would want her to socialize. Be normal, like the rest for once.

"It's quite the lovely book. Do you read?"

"I find it silly to preoccupy the mind with wasteful babble." Belle closes her book with delicacy as if it's a small infant.

"Then you sir, I feel quite sorry for. If you'll excuse me." She says as she tries to walk past him. He grabs her hand swinging her around to stare at him. His brutish eyes capture her physique. She tries to wiggle free. "You will unhand me sir." Her voice is final.

"You are such a rare beauty. So unlike the rest of them, you see how they stare at me." He inches closer, "I saw you staring as well."

"Unhand me," she screams.

He tries to place his poison of lips on her skin. But, before he can do so she slaps him hard across his cheek. He lets her go baffled by her unusual strength. He places his rather large hand along his cheek. Belle begins backing away her chest heaving up and down. "You sir. Will never touch me again."

She runs away and he stares at her realizing this Belle is nothing like the other girls.


	2. Far off Places

**Thank you all for waiting so patiently for this update. I wrestled with finishing this story for quite sometime. However, the excitement that some people gave me made me feel so thrilled to continue. I tried to write a long chapter because you all waited so patiently! It's your positive reviews that keeps me going! Thank you all and enjoy!**

**Evening**

Belle sits at the kitchen table a small candle next to her. It burns feverantly, flickering as the open window glides into the small kitchen area. She can hear the trees slowly swish as the wind picks up howling more. She holds the torn, tattered book inside her hands. Her fingers graze against the brown worn pages. Others, would have over-looked this book because of its worn appearance. However, Belle found it's beauty and found it even more intriguing because of its tattered facade. She believed the more worn, the more torn, the more secrets were held within it's pages.

That is what drew her attention to the small displaced book. It was kept in-between two beautifully drawn books. She had read most of the books on the shelf but oddly had over looked this particular one. She felt sadness for this book because she knew no one would read it. She quickly grabbed the book opening it up reading it's prologue. It grabbed her attention immediately and she knew she had to have it. The book keeper, a great friend of hers, was pleased to let her keep it.

"No one ever reads it anyway." He shrugs.

He slowly sweeps all the dust collecting on his floor. Belle held this sparkle in her eye as he handed her the book. She couldn't begin to explain how thrilled she had been to be given such a beautiful gift.

She immediately rushed home, with the eggs in the basket, she had originally been sent to town for that reason. Her father had told her that they would have quite a delightful dinner this evening. Belle loved the idea, in fact, she was so very pleased to have the opportunity to speak with her father. She had a never ending mind, one, which constantly filled to the brim with questions. Unlike her mother, her father believed that Belle had the right to question things. She craved knowledge wondering about things no one else seemed to care about. Not Belle, she wondered about every little aspect of the unknown.

Therefore, she's sitting here with a book in her hand. She's awaiting her father's return from his studies. The darkness has taken the place of the sun and it's beginning to be quite chilly. She walks over to the fireplace poking it's lumber hoping to conjure up more heat. It is no use because her skin still prickles with cold.

She is jolted when she hears the door slowly ramble. She turns her awareness to the door noticing her father walking in. His grey hair static from the brisk air. His cheeks rosy and skin a flame. She stands up walking towards him but stops in her tracks. Behind her father is Gaston, the brutish man that she met only a week before. The one that was anything but polite to her.

"Belle, my darling what is troubling you?" Her father asks.

He notices her soft hazel eyes fill with an unknown emotion. She dismisses Gaston and turns to her father a fake smile plagues her lips.

"Papa, it is nothing. I only wish you would have told me we'd have a guest."

Gaston walks towards Belle taking her hand into his. With a devilish grin he brings her small hand up to his thin line of lips. He kisses the top of her hand and it feels like it's burning.

"Miss. O'Hara, always a pleasure."

He lets go of her hand and she pushes the top of it against her blue skirt wiping away his displeasure. Belle's father decorates the table adding his finest cups and plates. He seems rather nervous and eager all placed into one.

"Gaston, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Belle chokes out.

Her nerves and mind swoops her away as she sees her father bring out that cup. The one cup that holds the greatest memories to her. It was when she was five. She was with her mother in the kitchen her father by the fireplace writing down his studies. She was so happy then her family complete and unbroken. Her mother was making some tea just like any other day. She looked up and suddenly her mother was shaking blood pouring from her mouth. The vision still haunts her waking her in the night like a phantom. The last thing she remembers is a small cup falling from her mother's hands. A cup that was chipped in the process. Her father never threw it out because it held so much value. It was the last thing her mother touched before she perished. Belle would sometimes wake up at night finding her father by the fire, the chipped cup in his hands, and he'd be sobbing wishing it held some feeling of his wife.

He hadn't brought the cup out until now and that scared her more than anything.

"Gaston will be joining us for dinner. We have much to celebrate,"

Belle notices the flicker of delight in Gaston's eerie eyes and she cannot help but feel her stomach turn to knots.

"Lovely," Belle murmurs.

Her father sets the table quite nicely. In fact, he hasn't done something this elaborate sense the lost of her mother. She cannot help but feel like a fool everyone else knowing what's occurring, everyone but her. Her father finally sits down at the table. Gaston next to him and Belle on the opposite side. In the middle of the table are fat gooey rolls steamed with butter and sugar. A pot of tea is steaming to the right of the rolls along with some freshly made chicken. Her father must have used one of their fattest ones because it smells and looks delightful. They begin to fill their plate with food and Belle simply watches.

"No appetite my darling?" Her father asks.

Belle simply shakes her head. She places the book she's been reading on the table next to her. It's her comfort, for, she knows something sullen is about to come.

"What is that you're reading?" Gaston clears the silence.

His beady eyes dart to the glorious book beside her. Her face lightens for a moment he notices immediately that she is quite attracted to books. He remembers her in the valley a book perched in her hand as if it were gold. He looks at her now, awaiting her response. She looks so different dressed in everyday garb opposed to the fine silk she was wearing that day. Her loose waves of tawny tresses pulled back yet slight strands fall along her oval face. Those hazel eyes blaze through him as she begins to speak,

"A book that was given to me."

"My Belle is a smart one, you'll see, she reads all the time."

"It fills the mind with so much folly," Gaston says as he places a cup of wine up to his lips.

He's teasing her she can tell from the darker hue of his eyes.

"I must demur, politely of course, how can one learn about the world without reading about it first?"

"It is all about experience I assure you." Gaston coos lifting the glass from his lips. "I'm sure a man as successful as your father will explain that to you."

"I assure you my father is delighted by both experiences and the knowledge he obtains through written literature."

"So about these rolls, they are delicious are they not?" Belle's father interjects.

He can feel a heated debate about to take way. He knows his daughter has always possessed a loose tongue. That scares him beyond belief because in an era where women didn't have the right to speak she spoke quite often.

"They're lovely papa,"

Belle places her hand on her book trying to calm herself down. She takes a piece of a roll just for formality even though she's feeling quite nauseous.

"Belle, now for the news I have for you."

Belle looks up at her father nodding her head indicating she's listening.

"You see Gaston here has informed me that my research is needed elsewhere." He pauses clearing his throat. "His father works with the university as you're quite aware of." Belle nods her head. "They feel as if I should be one of the anthropologist that travels with them to the new land. One by the name of Agrabah."

"Agrabah," She repeats.

Belle's eyes light up with the mention of new foreign places. Her heart begins to patter faster, "Papa, this is wonderful news! When are we to embark?"

Belle's father places his hands across the table holding his daughter tightly.

"I am to leave as early as tomorrow evening. It has been quite the rushed voyage."

"I should begin to pack immediately," Belle says with a smile.

She leaps up from her seat but is kept in place by Gaston. His grasp is rather tight on her hand and she turns to stare at him. "Forgive me Gaston, I did not thank you for this glorious opportunity."

"Do not thank me yet Belle. Your father hasn't mentioned the rest of his plans."

Belle turns her attention to her father who is quite silent.

"Papa,"

"Well it is to only be me who leaves Belle. You are to stay here and be a wife. Gaston has asked for your hand in marriage."

**Hours Later**

Belle lays in bed yet sleep is the farthest thing that is on her mind. How can she even close her eyes with the thoughts of her father leaving. Not only will she lose the most important person in her life, she will also gain a monster, a beast, in his stead. She never pictured herself as a wife. In fact, she couldn't understand how the women of her era simply thought about bearing children and cleaning up after their daft husbands. Oh how she dreamed of more. She dreamed of foreign lands animals to which she'd only read about. Places that would cause her eyes to question their sanity. Places like Agrabah.

Her father had told her that he would be placed under the protection of the sultan to learn about their culture. She could only imagine the things he would see the people he would encounter.

The thought of this foreign land causes her palms to tingle with anticipation. She cannot...no she refuses to be Gaston's poor little wife. The thought of him makes her repulsed. He didn't have anything in common with her. He couldn't even understand her purest love...her love for books. How could he possibly love her?

She had told her father this. He shushed her, assured her that love takes time. In time she would learn to love Gaston. She wouldn't dare say that he never grew to love her mother. She wouldn't cause him that much pain. So like most things she took it. She allowed him to talk about their customs and how she was needed to fulfill her duty as a woman. She needed to be properly brought up in their society.

She thinks of Gaston holding her, his touch rough and menacing, and it causes a tear to trickle down her cheek. She wipes it away roughly. She had learned after her mom's death that crying did nothing. To ease her pain she takes out her book reading about the dashing protagonist and how he'd stop at nothing to save his people.

She drifts away to the sound of the words inside her head. It eases her endless thoughts and brings her to the beautiful awakening of dreams. Dreams filled with foreign lands, dashing strangers, dreams of Agrabah.

**The Next Morning**

Belle places the cloak over her hair as she looks at the ship docked. She had come here to see her father off. He had held her head gently kissing her forehead. She had whispered she'd miss him more than anything. He assured her that he'd be back in a month's time welcoming his new son to their family. Gaston had gone with them to the departure. He had watched them and it causes her to shudder as his eyes witnesses their most intimate of moments.

She watches as her father walks up the boat waving to her as his response. Gaston doesn't calm her nor does he touch her thankfully. He simply nods his head. His ebony hair flying through the wind as he turns to stare at her. She looks lovely covered in that red hood her wisps of tawny hair collecting in the wind. Her lips are ripe and her eyes slightly damp.

"All will be well Belle, we're going to build a wonderful life together."

"Know this Gaston," she bitterly says. It causes him to become off guard his bushy eyebrow raises, "The last thing I ever want to be is your pitiful wife."

She turns to walk away but he grabs her pulling her closer. She tries to remove his grip but it's tight. Her eyes blaze with anger as he stares down at her.

"You will learn to respect me. I own you now." His words are like daggers. She leans in closer to Gaston,

"I belong to no one,"

Belle loosens his grip and storms off her red cloak dragging behind her.

She's finally out of his glare when she stops walking. She hides behind a massive wooden post placing her back against the wood. Her lips tremble as she tries to compose herself. The sky is grey and she can hear the waves lap up against the docks. She can hear a seagulls mournful cry telling its own tale of woe.

She removes her hood pushing strands of hair from her face. This shouldn't be where her life ends...it cannot be.

She hears sailors calling to one another in the distance. They sing songs of distant lands and the women they're leaving behind. They're hauling cargo into the bottom of the ship. Most of them seem rather strong and tan. She notices young man who looks nothing like anyone she's ever seen before. His skin the color of honey his dark dark, darker than any color she's ever seen. She notices he's lugging most of the cargo, carrying it along his muscular chest.

Without a single thought she rushes towards the opened boat's doors. She places her hood up dodging the cargo and the muscular sailors carrying it. Her heart beats rapidly as the sun disappears and she makes it inside the ship. The smell of sea water and male odor wafts through the enclosed space. She catches her breath as she places her body against the wall. After a couple of seconds she tip toes throughout the ship trying to find a place to rest, a place she could be unnoticed.

She hears the footsteps of sailors along with their loud banter and she hides inside a room. She closes the door immediately backing away slowly. She is thrilled that she's done it, she's created her own destiny! Writing her own unique story.

"What are you doing here?" She hears.

As she turns around her eyes widen and her stomach drops to the floor beneath her,


End file.
